Sharpened Through Purpose
by Demon of Zero
Summary: Emiya Kiritsugu wanted his son to live a happy, peaceful life. He didn't want his son to experience constant strife and conflict as he had. But a sword is not meant to sit and gather dust. Realizing that his child will not accept such a simple existence, the Magus Killer decides the best way to save his son is to give him something to fight for.


**AN** : So I'm writing a Fate story now. I've gotten into the series and this is just an idea that came up as I was talking to some folks, essentially just about how Kiritsugu accidentally sent Shirou down a path that ended up causing a lot of bullshit for the kid and many people in general.

It's Fate, which is intimidating because there is just _so much_ going on in that series, the lore is so deep and the magecraft and rules and ect that govern it are very lengthy and sometimes contradictory and just always generally complex except where sometimes some things are actually just super vague and never explored and... yeah. So if I make mistakes either it was vague as hell and I just got mixed up, or I changed something/added something intentionally to fill in holes that are unexplored in any material I could find for research, or I just fucked up. If any of these happen feel free to let me know.

With that happy piece said, on with the show.

* * *

Emiya Kiritsugu was known as many things throughout his life.

He was a mercenary, he was an assassin, he was a monster, he was a husband, he was a father.

Kiritsugu was not an imperceptive man. If that was the case, he would never have gotten this far. Too many times in his life, he could have met his end if he had noticed something seemingly minor even a moment later than he did.

It was because of this that he noticed something wrong with the child he had taken in.

Not at first, the joy of saving at least one person from the fire had blinded him... but over time, it became clear. Painfully so.

Throughout his life, Kiritsugu had done things that were beyond forgiveness, all in the name of saving as many lives as possible. Even if it meant ending the lives of others.

Saving one person means damning others. That was simply how the world was. He had learned that the hard way, time and time again. The decisions he had made, no matter how cruel, how despicable, had always saved more lives than they cost.

The sacrifices of the few paved the way for the many to survive.

In the end, with him crippled and unable to access his Magecraft any longer, there was only one more life Kiritsugu had the ability to save.

His adopted son. Emiya Shirou.

Pulled from the Fuyuki Fire that had claimed so many other lives, Shirou was a miraculous survivor. He was left without his memories, without his family, and without a clear future.

Kiritsugu had met the boy in the hospital, approaching him to ask if he would rather be taken in by a total stranger or left to the foster care system of Japan.

When Shirou had agreed, he had revealed the existence of Magecraft to him.

The boy had accepted it in a heartbeat.

He knew that the child had been damaged by the fire. It was a traumatic experience through and through. But for the most part, Emiya Shirou _seemed_ as though he could lead a normal life even knowing about the existence of magic.

That all changed when Shirou had asked to be taught Magecraft. At first, Kiritsugu had been adamantly opposed to the idea.

His son could lead a normal, happy life. Entering the Moonlit World would take that away from him. To be a magus was to walk with death, and that was a fate Kiritsugu didn't wish upon his son.

But he was no fool. As time went on, the signs became more and more apparent. Things he had either missed or simply been content to ignore started to take up space in his mind.

Only a week after his son had asked to learn Magecraft, Emiya Kiristugu came to a painful realization.

Shirou was not going to recover from the fire, not like this. He had survived where others did not, and felt guilty for it. He spent every second of every day seeking out ways to help someone, anyone, as if it was the only way he could atone.

Each and every thing he could do, Shirou pursued it relentlessly if it meant to aid someone else. Even if it meant overworking himself, even if it meant risking injury to himself, the boy would do it in a heartbeat to aid someone else. Anyone else.

His son was not going to lead a normal, happy life. Unless Kiritsugu was able to find some way to heal the child's wounded heart, there was no chance for him.

Sadly, healing was not a skill possessed by the man who was known far and wide as the Magus Killer.

Instead, Emiya Kiritsugu made a decision.

If his son would dedicate his life towards helping others, so be it. His father would give him the tools to do so, prepare him for the world as best as possible with the time before the curse claimed his life, and give Shirou a fighting chance when he finally came across the Moonlit World as he was almost certain to do.

If he was going to rush in to aid others, leaving him with the skills of a normal person would only get him killed in the attempt. If Kiritsugu couldn't stop him from traveling this path, he would at least try to prepare his son for it.

But despite this, Kiritsugu promised himself that he would do everything in his power to ensure Emiya Shirou did not end up following in his footsteps.

Left undirected, Shirou would be a broken human being striving to help everyone but himself. Left untrained, he would rush into situations he had no way to resolve, doing everything in his power to help and finding that it simply wasn't enough.

And then he would die, having accomplished nothing but ending his own life.

The thought chilled Kiritsugu to the bone. He had very nearly ignored something like this, something that could lead his son to his death.

Left unfocused, left without instruction, the boy who wanted to save everyone as he had been would instead die having accomplished nothing.

That was intolerable.

If Shirou wanted to be a hero, to help those in need... his father had one person in particular the boy could strive to save.

Maybe the boy would be saved himself in the process.

Perhaps the Magus Killer would be able to give his children happiness where he had denied himself the same.

* * *

At first, Kiritsugu had thought his adopted child was simply not talented with Magecraft.

That was fine, though. He himself was only as capable with it as was necessary. Anything that could be more efficiently achieved through technology, he did so. Magecraft was just a tool to be used, and in many cases it was an _inferior_ tool to the ever-growing wonders of modern technology.

So when Shirou was struggling to manage Reinforcement, one of the more useful tools Magecraft gave access to, Kiritsugu had just decided it would be best to take a break and come back to the subject after a bit of time.

Reinforcement was basic to a lot of magic users, but it was still useful. Shirou would get it eventually and be capable of using Reinforcement on objects and himself, able to enhance his capabilities well beyond what an average human could do. That in and of itself was enough to give his son an edge on many situations.

But, during that break, the man who had once been the Magus Killer saw the boy playing with Projection through one of the windows. He seemed surprisingly talented with it, but Gradation Air was useless in any real scenario.

At first, the idea of creating an object from nothing doesn't sound bad. Swords and knives on demand, ammunition for bows or even firearms, even the recreation of a firearm was entirely possible. It sounded like a useful skill, especially for someone like him who made use of non magical weaponry in his profession.

But it was costly, and the creations were all hollow and altogether _useless_. Put simply, it was a skill that would impress only a mundane human gawking at the creation of something from nothing, unknowing that what was created was just a hollow imitation of the real thing.

Still, though, he wouldn't interfere with Shirou toying with that magecraft. If Projecting a copy of Taiga's shinai would help him calm down from the difficulties Reinforcement posed, Kiritsugu was willing to let him, even if it did mean he would have to let the boy down by telling him that Gradation Air wasn't going to be helpful in the long run.

It was kind of amusing to see his son poking and prodding at the copied sword, as though examining it to see if there really _was_ some curse on the thing. He was aware that the Fujimura group tended to joke of that sword "hungering for blood", as though it had been influenced by Taiga's competitive spirit.

There was something ironic there, a blunted practice weapon that hungered for blood.

After a few seconds of watching the boy fiddle with the sword, Kiritsugu was surprised by something he did.

Seeming like he'd just been startled, Shirou _threw_ the Projected copy of Torashinai away from him, recoiling away from the copy even as it sailed through the air. It struck the side of the storage shed in the yard with a loud _thwack_ , before falling to the ground. The boy glanced around the yard quickly to see if anyone had spotted the incident, but Kiritsugu was inside and simply ducked back a bit to hide away, chuckling into his hand.

He'd tease Shirou about this later, and perhaps try and worm out of him just what had startled him so much.

But... why hadn't the copy dissipated when it struck the wall?

Gradation Air would create a weapon or object several shades lesser than the original. While the durability of a wooden sword wasn't something to write home about, a shinai could be thrown like that without much fear of damaging it.

But a Projection of one, and from a novice no less?

That copy should have shattered the instant it hit the shed. If he could hear the impact, there was no way it wasn't enough to destroy something so flimsy as that, right?

It was that thought which brought a sudden curiosity within him, and Kiritsugu chanced a glance towards where the wooden practice sword had fallen, still making certain that his son couldn't spot his spying.

The blade had struck the shed, bounced off of the stone, and landed on the ground a few feet away from the wall. And it was still there, somehow not dissipating or even seeming damaged by the impact at all.

This... could be interesting.

* * *

He could feel it eating away at him. The curse that had fallen upon him since that night, a constant reminder.

Staring up at the clear night sky, Emiya Kiritsugu came to the realization that this was his _last_ night.

Tonight was the night it would finally claim him.

That should have alarmed the man, but he supposed he was numb to it now. This curse had been eating at him since the night of the fire, after all. He had always known this would be his death.

He had accepted it.

Kiritsugu sighed softly, settling in on the porch slowly, mindful of the aches and pains his ailing body was subjected to. He looked up once more, silently admiring the stars and allowing his thoughts to wander.

It wasn't long before they did just that, stumbling upon a topic that was bittersweet almost immediately.

"Illya." He breathed her name quietly, clenching his hands at the thought of her. Of how he had failed her, unable to bring back the daughter he loved. She was locked away by the Einzberns, kept from him out of spite for his betrayal at the end of the war.

If those fools only knew what kind of darkness tainted their prize... but they did not, and he knew they would not believe him.

He wondered if Illya was watching the same sky as him, before laughing just a tad. A small cough tore from his lips, but he couldn't contain his chuckles. What a thought that was, all of a sudden.

The Magus Killer had failed his daughter. By losing her in the first place and then again because he was unable to save her. She was just one of many he had lost, but the world _taunted_ him with her; she lived, but she was beyond his reach.

Really, her only hope now was his son.

Shirou.

If Kiritsugu could have it his way, the boy would have lived a simple, peaceful life. He would have known that the child he saved could go on and truly live happily, the greatest joy a dying failure of a man like himself could have. That he could finally _save_ even just one person.

But that was denied to him as well. Shirou wouldn't be happy with that simple life, and so to try and force him into it would be to fail the boy as a father.

So instead, he did everything that he could for his son. He taught him all he knew about Magecraft, taught him as much as he could about fighting and killing, spying and tracking, every last thing he could think to give the boy in order to prepare him for the future, he did.

Kiritsugu prayed that Shirou wouldn't need to become the second Magus Killer, but he left him the tools to do just that if it was what the boy wanted.

Because in the end, whatever happiness his son could achieve in life would be found by pursuing _his_ desires, not those of another.

If nothing else, this way... maybe this way, Shirou would be able to succeed where he had failed. Maybe he could use the things Kiritsugu had taught while still living happily, chase a dream that wouldn't leave him broken and alone.

Maybe Illya could be saved, given a life where she could live happily as well.

With the training he'd given Shirou, with the unique talents the boy had stumbled upon, it was possible.

Movement drew his thoughts away from the subject, and Kiritsugu felt the boy in question settle in on the porch beside him. He offered his son a small, tired smile, but said nothing.

Shirou returned the smile weakly, but remained silent himself. He seemed to be conflicted, as though he didn't know what to say or if he wanted to say anything at all.

Kiritsugu wagered he wasn't the only one who had figured out this would be the end of his life. He had been displaying more and more symptoms lately, there was no way to keep it hidden. Not from someone he had personally trained, at that.

About that, though... "Shirou." He spoke, startling the boy from his own stupor, drawing his full attention. "I have done many things that I am not proud of. That I will never forgive myself for. I've been a monster many times. All of it was to pursue a dream."

"A dream?" Shirou couldn't help but ask, the boy visibly curious even though he had been surprised to hear him speak.

"Yes. I chased that dream with everything I had. I pursued it to the ends of the world and back." Kiritsugu paused for a moment, grimacing at the memories that came along with this line of thought. "In the end, I never caught up to that lofty dream. Instead, it took everything from me."

"What... was your dream?" Shirou asked him after a moment, almost guiltily.

As though the boy felt bad for forcing Kiritsugu to think about the topic any longer than he had to.

The dying man almost laughed as he spoke once more, but he couldn't manage it. "I wanted to be a hero of justice." Came the tired reply, the man once known as the Magus Killer sighing softly. "But I learned the hard way that it becomes impossible to call yourself that as you grow. It was the dream of a child." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and letting memories flow through him.

"Time and time again, I was forced to choose. Did I live by my ideals, or did I live for the people I loved?" Sometimes, he felt he had made the correct choice. His father had done something disgusting, something awful, and had gotten so many people killed all for the sake of pursuing Magecraft. He could still remember Shirley begging him to kill her, still remember himself unable to.

Just like he could still remember clearly how he had pulled the trigger on his father, avenging not only her but all the other inhabitants of the island.

But the man had trusted him completely. Had turned his back so easily, never once considering the idea his son would betray him. Even if his father had done something so horrible, the man had risked himself to stay until Kiritsugu returned.

It was painful to think about that, when Kiritsugu had been the one to betray that trust and abuse that love to put a bullet in his father.

But even so. That choice, that decision, it had been right.

"Time and time again, I chose my ideals." Unfortunately, there were so many _more_ times that Kiritsugu couldn't possibly feel like he had made the right choice. "When I was young, a disaster left me alone in the world. I had nothing and no one to rely on."

Shirou's eyes widened, the boy clearly stricken by this. It was, after all, something he was intimately familiar with as well.

Kiritsugu smirked slightly, admitting to himself that there was some irony there. "But someone took me in. A woman named..." He paused, feeling her name stick in his throat unpleasantly. After a moment to compose himself, Kiritsugu managed to continue. "A woman named Natalia."

It hurt. Old wounds were always so painful to reopen, but for Shirou's sake he would bear it.

His son had to know. The boy had to understand what it meant to be a _hero_ , and why it was a fate he wouldn't wish upon anyone.

Shirou seemed like he would protest, but Kiritsugu stalled him with a hand and as stern a gaze as his withered body could muster.

His son quieted his protests, settling back into his relaxed position grudgingly, accepting even though he clearly didn't like how this made his father feel.

Really, he was such a good kid. Kiritsugu would never claim himself as a good role model, so that had to be something his boy had naturally.

"Natalia was a freelancer, like I later went on to become." He started slowly, allowing himself to recall the good times. It was the only thing he could do to offset the pain in his heart as he recalled her end. "She took me in, she raised me. Natalia, she was like a mother to me. I wouldn't be the man I am today if not for her." He wasn't able to quite hide the bitterness there, and Shirou noticed, but didn't interrupt him. "I was forced to choose, Shirou. Either I save her, risking countless innocents, or I kill her myself to save the nameless masses."

Shirou recoiled as though struck, looking towards his father with horror plainly visible in his eyes.

It wasn't fear of him. Kiritsugu could tell right away.

His son was terrified because he realized just what Kiritsugu had been forced to do.

And because the boy realized how easily it could be _him_ forced to make that decision.

The elder Emiya let a smile slip onto his lips, but it was a mask full of cracks. "I killed her for their sake. That is what it meant to follow my dream. To save as many lives as possible, I ended the life of someone I loved with my own hands."

There was silence between them, for a moment, as Shirou processed this and Kiritsugu struggled against the despair that had cursed him long before the Grail.

But he continued. This had to be said, before he finally ran out of time. His despair had been trying to kill him for years, and the Grail's curse was decidedly quicker about it.

"I grew to hate this dream. But I still fought and killed to uphold it, because the lives lost had to be worth something. It had to have meaning." Kiritsugu had thought that his tears had all dried up by now, after all he had suffered through, but he could feel that sting in his eyes this one last time at the end of his road.

"Here I am now, Shirou. I've come to the end. And, after all of this... I still just want them back."

It hurt Kiritsugu to admit that. After spending his entire life pursuing this dream, saving as many people as he possibly could, shouldn't he have been content? He did all he could, preserved as many lives as possible through his actions. Shouldn't that be enough?

It wasn't. It never would be enough.

Shirou had gone quiet, staring off into the yard. The things he had just told the boy were world shaking, that much Kiritsugu knew, because Shirou realized just how similar he was to his father. If he fell into the same dream due to the guilt he felt at surviving, would he meet his end with just as many regrets as Emiya Kiritsugu? Would he be forced to sacrifice his loved ones for the sake of a dream? And at the end of his rope, would he be fulfilled?

But Kiritsugu didn't have enough time to let the boy stew in his thoughts. His life was running out and there was one last thing he wanted to say before he left this world.

"I can't have them back, Shirou." He began again, shocking his son out of his thoughts. "It's too late for that, too late for me. But _you_ can learn from my mistakes." Finally, the tears that had been pricking at his eyes began to fall, as he almost _pleaded_ with the child he had taken in. "The only wish I still have left is for the few people I haven't lost to live happily."

There was a brief moment of silence before Shirou spoke up. "I think I understand." He started, though his voice was shaky and uncertain. "I'll try my best. Whatever I do, I'll try my best to be happy. I'll get Illya back, I'll take care of Fuji-nee, and I'll... I'll try to live for myself, too."

Kiritsugu could tell Shirou was still unsure. One heartfelt conversation wasn't going to fix what the fire broke. Shirou was still damaged.

But all the same, at least he would try. That gave his father hope for the boys future. It lifted a weight off of his shoulders, and the man who had once been the Magus Killer couldn't help but smile as he felt himself finally slip away.

"I'm... relieved to hear that, Shirou. Thank you."

Maybe he had finally saved someone after all.

* * *

As soon as Emiya Shirou had set foot in Cologne, he felt the gravity of the situation hit him in full force.

He was really about to do this.

After twelve hours of flight from Tokyo to the largest city on the Rhine, he had finally reached what would be the staging ground for an absurdly dangerous mission. Something that could very easily get him killed if he wasn't careful.

Well, this could get him killed even if he was careful, the redheaded teen was forced to admit to himself.

There was a part of him that wanted to check his false ID yet again to make sure he'd committed it to memory, but Hiro Takano wasn't exactly a hard name to remember. He was just nervous and looking for something to latch on to.

The Einzberns didn't have any reason to be looking for an Emiya in their territory, but he wasn't going to risk using his real name when he was just a stones throw away from one of the most powerful groups his dad had ever pissed off. One that the man had _royally_ pissed off, at that, and a group that _he_ was aiming to piss off just as badly.

This time, for sure, Illya would be coming home. He wasn't going to let Kiritsugu's wish go unfulfilled, but this was just as much for him as it was for his father.

If he really wanted to be a hero, then of course he had to save the princess from her prison castle... and really, what kind of brother would he be if he just accepted them keeping Illya away from her family?

Making his way through the Cologne Bonn Airport, Shirou thankfully managed to avoid too many glances. He was, after all, just a tourist. There were plenty of them in Cologne, there to see the museums and galleries, so he was just another face in the crowd as he made his way into the streets.

What a crowd it was, though. Maybe tourism inflated the number of people, but the streets were pretty much full. Though, Shirou supposed that could just be since he was coming from the airport.

There would probably be far fewer people once he got out of the middle of the city.

Shirou was really glad he'd brushed up on his German before coming here, though. The dialect was different but still recognizable enough that he could figure out if anyone was talking about him.

No one was, though, and of course they weren't. He was, after all, just a tourist to anyone who looked his way; and his red hair didn't even stick out as much here as it did back home, either. That was almost enough to relieve him, but not entirely.

This wasn't quite the territory of the Einzberns, they were too isolated for that, but it was close. Painfully close. The closest city to their castle, but Shirou was confident they had no major presence in the city itself.

Even knowing that, though, he did still find himself scanning the crowds for any heads of white hair or pidgeonblood eyes.

Just in case.

His paranoia died a little bit when he finally reached his temporary residence, having made the trek through the city while walking on eggshells.

This was the safehouse Kiritsugu had stayed in during his own attempts, a little two-story home in a residential area. He was fairly certain the place was still entirely off the grid for the Einzberns, being just one of many little homes in Cologne. Dad hadn't ever been caught in his attempts to get Illya back after all, so why would they have even looked into where he could be staying in the city?

Making his way towards the front door and refraining from glancing around like he was worried about being followed, Shirou was greeted by a very bland yet functional abode.

Kiritsugu had bought this place for simple practicality after all, the man was hardly an interior decorator.

He wasn't much of a cook either, but that was a whole other matter.

Chuckling fondly at the memories of his old man, Shirou quickly scanned the place for any kind of bugs or recording devices; even if there was no feasible way the Einzberns could predict him coming, no chance they knew of this location, and even _less_ chance they would ever resort to mundane means themselves, Shirou wasn't taking any more risks than this entire plan already was.

Dad taught him a lot more than just how to use Magecraft, after all.

Making liberal use of Structural Grasping to ensure nothing devious was lying in wait for him, Shirou eventually let his magic fade after the mental blueprint showed nothing of note.

Stepping into the living room of the house, he allowed himself to slump onto the couch for a few minutes to get his thoughts together and just take it all in, let the reality of the situation wash over him yet again.

Projection. Reinforcement. Structural Grasping. For any self respecting Magus, this would be an absolutely pitiful skill set. He was hardly even suitable to be called a Magus to begin with.

So Shirou just didn't call himself that, just as Kiritsugu hadn't. No, he was just someone who made use of magic. There wasn't some technical term for it, but the distinction was important. It was what separated him from the ones he was facing.

Magecraft was a tool just like any other. That belief, more than anything else, had been what made the Magus Killer so dangerous in the Moonlit World.

When so many others were unwilling to even accept technology existing, he had embraced it. Where others let themselves be trapped by their beliefs in magical superiority, he had used that against them just as much as any other weapon.

Shirou held two advantages over the Einzberns here; firstly, they had no idea that he would be making this attempt. That alongside his ability and _willingness_ to use all of the neat toys Kiritsugu had left behind would be all he could claim to have over the Einzbern family.

He hadn't just learned Magecraft from his adoptive father. In fact, it was almost an afterthought compared to everything else. If there was a tool Kiritsugu had known how to use, Shirou was taught to use it as well. He wouldn't claim to be as good with any of them as his father was, but he was confident with all manner of devices he'd been taught to use.

Except for the guns. Those just weren't his style, even if the man had insisted he at least learn _how_ to use them just in case. Even if he did have to admit that sometimes a gun was more practical than his Projections, they never felt right in his hands.

But that still left all of the high tech surveillance equipment, equipment which was already at this exact safehouse alongside a bunch of other things Kiritsugu had prepared. Not to mention the explosives, something he had to admit could be really useful when needed.

Sometimes, blowing something up was strategically sound. Most of the time, it was also really cool.

In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't much. He could have all the spy gadgets and technical knowhow in the world, but that wasn't going to give him a chance against an Einzbern combat homunculus. Let alone the number of them Shirou was sure were in that castle.

This was going to be difficult no matter how he approached it, but he wasn't going to back down. The thought of that never once crossed his mind.

Releasing a loud sigh, Shirou stood from the couch and made his way towards the basement of the house, where Kiritsugu had set up a hidden alcove filled to the brim with all manner of fun things.

It was time to get to work.

* * *

Aside from the heavy snowfall, conditions for scouting were pretty optimal. The snow wasn't even entirely a bad thing, since it helped him hide just as much as it would anyone else. And seeing as how this was their territory, Shirou didn't expect the Einzberns to be doing much hiding to begin with. Layered white clothing with a snow-camo cloak kept him as hard to spot as any mundane means could.

Shirou had established a small base camp on an outcropping of rock, just a single small tent to house any electronics that couldn't be left in the snow as well as his own sleeping bag. Much like his chosen attire, the tent was colored to blend in with the grays and whites of the rock and snow. It would be hard to spot unless someone was looking for something like that in the first place, but Shirou liked to think he had been doing a good enough job to keep that from happening.

It had been two days now, and he was confident he could make his way through the Bounded Field the Einzberns had set up. Maybe even without setting off any alarms.

Kiritsugu hadn't found the entrance himself, but during his searches he had narrowed it down to several likely spots. All it took for Shirou to confirm that was to go visit himself and sniff around a bit.

There were a total of three entry points he could use. One was weaker than the others, seemingly stretched much thinner from what he could see. The only issue was just how out of the way it was, something that would make traversing their territory all the more dangerous.

He could probably get in through there undetected, but on the not too unlikely chance that he was found Shirou could guarantee he would be killed having to go through that particular route on his escape.

Probably exactly as intended, honestly. That kind of obvious weak point reeked of a trap.

That left the other two.

From what Shirou could tell, they were less likely to be a trap designed specifically to get an interloper caught and more a legitimate structural weakness. Maybe something to do with the nature of the field itself, or the ground it covered? He didn't really know, these things were honestly not his specialty. He knew just enough about Bounded Fields to find them and find holes in them.

Thankfully, the Einzbern field was _seemingly_ pretty simple. From what he could gather, there were three layers to it, and the first layer was actually quite nonthreatening. It just made you want to turn around.

That was it. Just a simple hypnosis affect, and one of the things that kept Kiritsugu from ever making any progress in his search. Without access to his Magecraft, his adoptive father was almost defenseless against the very first layer.

The second was an alarm. That was the real danger, but it was a little ways inside of the field where it triggered. That was where he had actually been searching for the weak points the notes had theorized, well within the outer layer and poking around the outside of the second layer while trying not to trigger it.

Two days had gone by and the only white tops he saw were the snow-covered trees, rather than the hair of a combat homunculus or, worse, a group of them.

So that was reassuring. While he was moving slowly, there was progress being made and no one was aware of his presence yet. If he could slip into the second layer of the Bounded Field without setting off the alarm and hide his presence until he got out of it, he would just have to contend with the third and final layer... and the castle itself, of course.

Shirou wasn't _entirely_ certain what the third layer was, just that it existed. But from what he did understand about the family and magus mentality in general, that last layer was probably something to slow down any interlopers while their combat homunculi were dispatched to deal with them, alerted by the alarm of the second layer.

The Einzberns were actually not known for combat abilities, not really. They were focused on Alchemy to an obscene degree, and while and army of combat homunculi was certainly intimidating there were definitely more terrifying things the Moonlit World could throw at someone.

He suspected traps, some of them probably armed strictly by the alarm itself so the Einzberns could actually freely roam their territory without worry of blowing themselves up. If their focus was on homunculi, and they were dispatching those to deal with intruders like he suspected, then there had to be some accommodation for them to move freely.

Or so he hoped. They could just always be active, either trusting their troops to avoid the traps or not caring if they triggered them since they were just artificial humans.

Or it could be something entirely different.

He was pretty confident in the last layer being some kind of magical minefield or something similar, but without getting closer to that particular layer he couldn't be sure. And once he did make his way through the alarm layer of the field, his risk of discovery became far higher even if he did manage to keep from setting it off immediately.

Shirou sighed quietly, retreating back to his tent for a few moments to retrieve a pair of high powered binoculars. Settling down onto his stomach on the snowy ground, his clothing almost rendering him invisible from a distance, he began to perform his indirect recon just to be sure nothing had changed.

This wasn't any kind of concealment field, so mundane methods of spying worked just fine. The Einzberns weren't trying to hide, after all. This was _their_ territory, and any familiars used to spy on them would probably set off the alarm and then be destroyed.

But that didn't stop a pair of sufficiently powerful binoculars from doing the trick, especially when one was a fair hand at Reinforcement.

Really, if they ever actually _went outside_ Shirou would be able to monitor the residents of the castle perfectly well from his overlook here. As it was, though, with the Einzberns being such shut-ins, there wasn't anything to see other than the castle itself; old and imposing, surrounded on all sides by a sea of trees and snow.

Something about it just seemed stagnant, though. Like it was frozen in time. It made him uncomfortable to look at sometimes, an uneasy feeling built in his gut if he stared too long. Shirou almost thought it was some kind of Bounded Field causing it, but that was silly.

His gaze turned towards the forest, glancing around yet again to see if there was anything of note and taking the excuse to stop looking at the castle that made him so uncomfortable.

He didn't expect much, but it wouldn't hurt and he had already been out on the ground confirming the weak points in the field. For the time being, he didn't have anything else to be doing until he actually tried to push his way in.

There was _something_ moving, though, he noticed idly as he scanned the grounds.

Wait, wait. There was something moving. That wasn't normal.

He'd seen wolves in the area, as well as deer, a bear, and a few smaller animals roaming the woods, not to mention the birds that called this place home as well.

It was, after all, a forest.

But this was different. This wasn't anything normal at all.

Animals in these woods were either idle or explosive in their movement. Wolves stalking along, bursting into motion for prey. Deer idly standing until frightened to movement. Bears padding about without concern. Small animals dashing along the ground so fast he could almost miss them.

This was too small to be a bear, too large to be a rabbit, to visible to be a wolf, and too slow to be a deer.

Shirou tried to focus in, managing to track down the source of the movement after a few moments.

She was hard to spot, porcelain pale skin and a white nightgown helping blend her with the snow just as much as Shirou's own clothes did. But once he realized just what he was looking at, he felt his heart leap into his chest and drop into his stomach almost simultaneously.

That was his target.

That was _Illya_.

Kiritsugu had only a single picture remaining of her, a keepsake he'd treasured till the end of his days, but she hadn't changed much. Dad had made it clear that her body wasn't likely to match her physical age.

That was his _sister_ out in this freezing weather, covered by nothing but a nightgown, wandering the woods like a lost child.

Making her way back to the castle, ever so slowly.

If there had been a plan to enter the Einzbern territory without detection, it became irrelevant the moment he saw her.

It didn't matter if they knew he was there, because she was closer to him than she was to the castle and there was never going to be a better chance to grab her than this moment.

Shirou didn't have any more time to think about it as that realization hit him, and he practically _flew_ forward to seize the golden opportunity he had been presented, Reinforcing his limbs to the absolute limit of what he could safely handle in an attempt to reach her as soon as possible, disregarding everything else.

No matter what happened, he promised that Illya would be coming home. That was one promise he wasn't about to break even if it killed him.

* * *

"Huh... how did I..." Pushing herself up from the snow covered ground, Illyasviel von Einzburn mumbled to herself in confusion before realization set in.

"Oh, right." She breathed out, coming to her knees in the deep snow. "I was in the middle of the final test." Behind her was a trail of footprints, made by her as she trekked through the freezing woods. "If I make it back to the castle alive, I can go to Fuyuki." With those words tumbling from her lips, Illyasviel finally made her way back to her feet.

She stood in the imprint of her own fallen body for a moment, realizing something. "But I left Berserker behind." The giant had been with her, but she had gone away from him. To move Berserker was to be in pain. "That's okay, though." The girl assured herself dully, numb to the cold on her bare feet and beginning to trudge forward again. "When I get back to the castle, I'll just summon a new Servant."

Minutes passed like seconds, but felt like an eternity all the same. Illyasviel continued her trek through the frozen woods, with only her thoughts for company. "I'll summon one that won't cause me pain, and isn't so scary." Saying this, she felt herself stop for a moment, looking around the area.

Something felt strange. Like she was being watched.

A figure darted between the trees before her, tearing a startled gasp from her lips. What was that? An animal?

Maybe it was just a deer. It had moved by quickly, she didn't get a good look. Standing still, she held her breath for a moment, straining to hear the sounds of the forest.

Moments later, Illyasviel found herself staring down a pack of hungry wolves as they padded out from behind the cover of the trees.

Not just a deer, then. Not at all.

Eyes widening, fear creeping up into her chest, she backed away a step. The motion drew their attention, the wolves beginning to make their own movements towards her, their intention shining clear in their eyes.

She turned on a heel, beginning to run away as quickly as she was able.

But she was hampered. Her body was small, human, and numb from the cold. Not like that of the wolves that sped after her, the creatures adapted to these woods.

The heavy snowfall slowed each and every one of her steps, her small legs carrying her as fast as they could over the frozen ground.

It wasn't enough.

The chase would be over soon, and she would be their prey. Even knowing this, she still ran away, trying to escape the inevitable pain and death even though she knew it was pointless.

She came upon a hill, the wolves still right on her heels. There was nowhere to run, but still she tried. Soon she would be over the hill, where she would slip down the incline. The fall would have her on the ground for long enough that the wolves would have no trouble pinning her.

And once they had her pinned, she would know nothing but pain until everything slipped away for the last time.

Despite knowing it was futile, despite the knowledge that she had nowhere to run, Illyasviel von Einzbern continued forward with every last ounce of the desperation fueled strength she possessed.

 **"ILLYA!"** A furious shout tore through the air, audible even over the sound of her heart thundering in her ears or the snarls of the beasts gaining ground behind her.

Stopping for even a second would invite death upon her, she didn't have the time to so much as glance behind her to see just who had called her by that name.

But it echoed in her mind a thousand times in under a second. Illya? Illya they said? No one called her that. Not since Mama and Papa.

She was Illyasviel von Einzbern, she was the Einzbern Master. She was called anything from a tool to the young mistress.

It had been so long since she was ever Illya. So who?

The girl couldn't help but turn, even as her mind screamed that doing so would be her end.

She saw white. Not of the snow, not of a homunculus, but a swath of whites, grays, and blacks. It moved as a blur, and in the instant she was able to see the blur before it impacted her, Illyasviel noticed that the wolves had been startled by it passing them by, darting off to the side and snapping at it warily, startled by this new addition to the chase.

As the blur struck her, she felt a sudden warmth overtake her freezing body, arms wrapping around her small form and clutching her close. A gasp tore from her at the sensation, her body demanding that she remain near this source of heat.

Helpless as she was, Illyasviel had no choice but to do just that. She didn't struggle, simply allowing herself to be swept away by the one that had scooped her into their arms.

Wind rushed by her as the figure cloaked in white leapt from the hill, throwing snow in every direction as he, and she was at least certain her savior was a male based on the rather muscular chest she was pressed against, did so.

The two of them sailed through the air for a moment before coming to land at the foot of the hill, throwing up even more snow from the impact.

In the moment of respite, she chanced a look towards her apparent savior's face.

Illyasviel didn't know what to expect. No kidnapper would have voiced their concern for her, nor would they have used that name. No Einzbern would have interfered in the test, and _they_ would also have never called her Illya.

The last person to call her that name had died years ago, leaving her all alone.

There was no logical conclusion. No one had called her that since she had last seen Mama and Papa. No one had cared about her since them, either.

There wasn't anyone in the world who would save Illyasviel von Einzbern. Not anymore.

Her ruby red eyes peered up to see a pair of glistening amber staring back at her. "Illya, are you alright?" Her savior whispered out, grasp on her tightening as though he was terrified to release her, afraid she may disappear from his arms.

"Onii-chan?"

It wasn't possible. _He_ couldn't be here. Kiritsugu, _Papa_ , had abandoned her. He had _replaced_ her.

She had always referred to him as her brother, even if she envied him for taking her place in Papa's life. That was why she wanted to go to Fuyuki in the first place, to meet him. Did she want to make him pay for replacing her? Did she want to keep him for herself? Illyasviel wasn't certain. She had to meet him, had to find out what she wanted.

She had been convinced Papa had abandoned her and replaced her with this boy.

So why was her _replacement_ so relieved to see her safe? Why had he _saved_ her? Why was he _here_ instead of Fuyuki to begin with?

Her questions were cut off as the snarls of the wolves echoed out again, the beasts sliding down the hill towards them.

She flinched against him, instinctively pressing closer as though it would keep the wolves away from her even as she watched them cautiously moving forward.

"Don't worry, Illya." She heard him say, tearing her eyes away from the wolves that were eyeing him warily to glance back at him.

The boy holding her smiled, and she couldn't help but feel like _he_ was the one who had been saved it was so radiant. Warmth spread through her, unrelated to the heat of his body, and she felt the beginnings of tears pricking at her eyes as she realized that there was only one reason he could have to leave Japan and come _here_ of all places.

"It took too long..." He began, crouching down low and turning his gaze to the wolves. "But your brother is here to take you home."

There were so many things to say. So many emotions welling up inside of her. She wasn't sure where to start.

But whatever she could have said was cut off by _another_ unexpected event.

* * *

Originally, Shirou had planned to take Illya and just run from the wolves. He could probably outrun them with Reinforcement, and while he didn't want to kill a bunch of wild animals that didn't know any better that wasn't going to stop him if push came to shove.

He had Illya _in his arms_ , and anything that dared try and take her away from him was the enemy no matter who or what they were. If that meant that he had to Project a few swords to scare them off, or barring that kill them, Shirou would.

Even if it was a pack of wolves, he could easily dispatch them with Reinforcement and his Projected swords.

As it turned out, though, that was kind of unnecessary.

Just as he had been prepared to make his escape, not just from the wolves but also from the Einzberns he was certain had begun to mobilize to retrieve Illya from him, something massive crashed into the earth like a meteor just a few feet in front of him.

After the moment of shock wore off and the snow thrown up from the impact cleared, Shirou felt his breath catch in his throat.

The being before him was goliath. The man was a hulking wall of muscle, dark olive skin seemingly fighting to contain his sheer mass. His torso was bare, and from his arms jutted bizarre, monstrous spikes that extended beyond his elbow. With only an armored skirt, wristbands, and anklets the man looked like a primitive barbarian, an image not hindered in the slightest by the massive slab of stone he carried in one colossal hand or the wild mane of dark hair cascading behind him.

The figures eyes were an inhuman gold. It wasn't the _color_ that was inhuman, but simply something in his gaze.

Even at a glance, it was impossible to mistake the creature in front of him as merely human.

Shirou nearly fell over from the impact, sudden as it was, but that paled in comparison to how weak his knees became staring down this monster wearing the guise of a man.

"Berserker?" He heard Illya whisper, voice laced with wonderment as she stared at the giant before them. "You came too? Why?"

Berserker. Berserker. Berserker. Berserker. **Berserker.**

The word rattled around in Shirou's mind, and he felt sick all of a sudden.

This was no man, it wasn't an Einzbern homunculus experiment, it was nothing from this world at all.

Before him stood Servant Berserker, a Heroic Spirit called from the Throne of Heroes to fight in the Holy Grail war.

That wasn't possible. The war shouldn't be happening. It had only been ten years, not sixty.

So how?

But the impossible was the truth. The sheer presence this figure radiated was enough that Shirou couldn't deny it. This man, this colossus, was a Servant.

If Berserker was here, that meant the Holy Grail War would soon descend upon Fuyuki all over again.

As he reeled from this revelation, Shirou saw the wolves move.

For a second he expected them to assault him and Illya and prepared to move, but instead they dove directly upon the immobile giant.

Shirou couldn't help but stare, baffled by the decision.

Did they not realize what he was? Or did they, and they attacked him knowing this, prioritizing the most dangerous thing in the area? Did they simply see him as larger, and therefore something with more meat to consume?

Teeth sunk into flesh, but the giant remained unmoved.

"Why don't you fight back?" Illya whispered, watching the scene as though in a trance. From her place in his arms, Shirou felt his sister turn to stare into the inhuman eyes of the Servant without fear. "Is it... because of me? You don't want me to suffer?"

He should have been moving already. Every second he remained in this spot was another second the Einzberns would use to close the distance on them. If he didn't move, Shirou knew that he would die and Illya would be taken by the Einzberns again.

That couldn't happen. He couldn't fail Kiritsugu like that, he couldn't fail _Illya_ like that. He absolutely had to save her. They needed to move, and they needed to move now.

But Shirou remained where he was. Something in her voice, it rooted him in place even though he knew they didn't have time.

Illya needed this.

"You didn't protect me because I ordered you to, or because you're a Servant..." She mumbled, and Shirou felt the trembling cease, replaced by something else even as he heard steel come into her voice.

A surge of Prana came from the girl in his arms, and Shirou glanced down in time to see red markings come into being all across her pale skin even as he felt her grip on his shirt tighten.

"Get them, _Berserker_!" Illya shouted, commanding what Shirou now recognized to be _her_ Servant.

The impact generated by Berserker when he had landed threw up a smokescreen of snow that blinded Shirou briefly, had nearly made him stumble from the suddenness of it.

The sheer _force_ that radiated from him at Illya's command absolutely blew that out of the water.

If not for him Reinforcing his limbs, Shirou would have been blown away by the strength of it.

Instead, he was merely buffeted by the snow thrown away from the giant of a man.

Whatever happened didn't last even the time it took for the snow to settle. One moment there was the slight scent of blood in the air from the wounds Berserker had taken.

The next, the air was saturated in the scent, but it was that of the wolves which had attacked him.

They were just wolves. Nothing special by any means. Mere mundane animals. It wasn't any surprise that a giant such as this would be able to kill them.

But the speed at which they were dispatched was horrifying. One moment they were on Berserker, tearing at his flesh, and the next the wolves were all dead, scattered throughout the clearing.

And then the Servant turned its gaze on him, eyes now bloody red. An incomprehensible noise, a mixture between a snarl and a groan rumbled from the giant, who moved almost threateningly towards him.

Servant Berserker. And Shirou was still holding his Master.

With the full presence of the Mad Servant pressing down on him, it was all he could do to remain upright. This being, this man, was beyond him. Worlds beyond him. Shirou didn't know what it meant to be a Heroic Spirit, but the sheer aura this man radiated seemed to imply he was so much greater and more terrible than that title.

This was no _mere_ Heroic Spirit. What stood before him really was a monster.

But, even so... "I came here for Illya." Shirou managed to grit out, narrowing his eyes at the Servant towering over him. "You are _not_ taking her from me." He didn't care what the odds were. If things like that deterred him, then Emiya Shirou would never have gotten to this point in the first place.

Illya was in his arms, and _anything_ that stood in the way as he took her home was his enemy.

Another step forward shook the ground, but Shirou was not moved, glaring up at the massive figure.

After a moment, the intensity seemed to... well, it didn't disappear, but Berserker halted his advance. A low grumble rolled from his throat, and those inhuman eyes regarded Shirou for a few moments longer.

Shirou didn't move from his spot, but neither did Berserker.

In his arms, Shirou felt Illya trembling again. Initially, he was worried for her; was she scared of the giant she had summoned? Was the cold finally getting to her?

That changed the moment he heard the girl in his arms start laughing. She snaked her arms around his torso and pressed closer to him, giggling all the while.

"Berserker says you pass, Onii-chan."

Shirou almost collapsed from a mixture of relief and exasperation, but even if he had it wouldn't have mattered as the next words from his sister took that decision out of his hands.

"Berserker! Take us away from this place! I want to go home."

Hearing her say that, say that she wanted to go _home_ , it almost brought tears to his eyes all over again as the reality of the situation hit him all over again.

Home. Illya was coming _home_.

He had done it.

Kiritsugu, he had _done it_!

Shirou's moment of triumph was cut off as the colossal man snatched him, and the girl in his arms, and cradled them against his massive form. The boy squawked at the sudden forced motion, a gigantic arm securing him.

His arms tightened around Illya all the more, amber eyes darting around in shock and surprise even as his sister began giggling all over again.

"I-Illya, uh, is he about to..." Shirou almost didn't want to finish asking the question, which was great because Berserker chose that precise moment to leap into the air with enough force to leave a crater on the ground.

"WHEEEEEEEEE!" Illya shouted gleefully, snuggling herself closer even as she turned her head to watch the ground as it went by underneath them.

Shirou's own shout was more akin to the cry of a dying animal.

 **"AAAAAAAAAAAGH!"**

* * *

"We made good time though, right Onii-chan?" Illya stated proudly, reclining into her seat on the plane and smiling widely at her brother.

For his part, Shirou at least had the decency to humor her. "Yeah. We did." He admitted with a slightly strained chuckle, rubbing the back of his head with a hand. "But, uh... it was kind of a bumpy ride." Understatement of the century, that.

Illya laughed at him again, turning to look out the window like a child excited to experience something new as the ground got further and further away from them... without immediately getting closer.

He'd gotten a hold of his contact during said bumpy ride. After calming himself from the initial terror, Shirou knew that he still had work to do. He made certain Illya was nestled between his body and that of the Servant, where she couldn't possibly have fallen, before sending a few messages via text on his cellphone.

Magic was useful, but it really didn't beat a phone in terms of convenience at all. And Emiya Kiritsugu hadn't been the only one in the Moonlit World to figure that out, thank goodness.

Dad had left plenty of contacts for him, plenty of notes to help him later in life with the things he hadn't had time to teach during his last years. Shirou had a list of the mundanes separate from the magical, and further separated was a list of contacts Kiritsugu had marked as trustworthy.

It was a small list, but easily the more valuable of the two.

That had been how he'd gotten his false identity as Hiro Takano, which he'd used to fly into Cologne and guarantee the Einzberns wouldn't be waiting to greet him at the airport.

It was also that same list that got him a flight _out_ of Cologne as soon as possible. They made good time, just as Illya had said, but Shirou wasn't going to risk even a single nights stay in Germany when he had his little sister to worry about and what was certain to be an _extremely_ pissed off Einzbern family coming after their stolen Master for the Fifth Holy Grail War.

Even if she did have Berserker with her in Astral Form, there was nothing in the world that would make Shirou risk her safety like that. Even if the giant could dismantle the entire family with his bare hands, there was no reason to risk her at all. The sooner they left the Eiznbern's sphere of influence, the better. They were a big family with a lot of resources to throw around, and he didn't feel like challenging that on their home turf.

This whole operation had been costly. Dad had amassed quite a bit of money, money Shirou himself didn't touch unless he absolutely needed to. He preferred to be as self-sufficient as possible, and it paid off because this particular outing had put a serious chunk into what remained. Not to mention the surveillance equipment he'd left behind in his haste or the identity he would probably only use this one time, there was the cost of arranging the trip to begin with.

Good, _trustworthy_ help wasn't cheap unless you had certain individuals owing you favors, which Shirou did not. He had skills, but there were things he needed to have arranged by someone else.

And if that someone else could even _possibly_ have tipped the Einzberns off, it could have gotten him killed and left Illya without even knowing her _real_ family cared about her at all.

It didn't matter if he'd dented the family savings. Hell, Shirou would have paid the entire fortune if that was what it took to get Illya back.

Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, and knowing that _he_ was able to bring her back at last was priceless.

Finally, it felt like he had been able to begin paying back his adoptive father for the gift the man had given him. By saving Kiritsugu's daughter, by saving _his sister_ , Emiya Shirou had fulfilled one of his fathers dearest wishes.

He had done what Kiritsugu wasn't able to, and saved Illya. Now, he just had to make sure she _stayed_ safe and happy.

Helping others always felt right, but this time there was a profound sense of satisfaction that he hadn't ever experienced before.

Was _this_ what it meant to save someone?

Shirou hadn't realized he was in something of a daze until he felt the weight of Illya's head against his arm, the girl having flopped towards him to rest there. She smiled brightly towards him. "What's on your mind, Onii-chan?" She asked curiously, turning her bright red eyes up at him.

"Ah." He had gotten a bit out of it. That wasn't really good. They weren't home yet, after all, even if things were pretty much over by now. "I guess the adrenaline wore off and I'm just a little tired." Shirou admitted sheepishly, not wanting to explain just what had him so out of touch with reality for a moment.

It was complicated and more than a little bit personal, not something he really wanted to bother Illya with, especially not so soon after getting her away from the Einzberns.

"But I'm fine, really. How do you like your new clothes?" He asked her, steering the subject away from his supposed adrenaline crash.

"They're a little big, but Papa was guessing my size so I can't complain much." Even if he didn't have time to stop and put away all of things left behind at the small camp, Shirou did have things at the safehouse mostly ready for a quick extraction so they had stopped by quickly, since their lead on the Einzberns had been so great.

It kind of concerned him that dad had thought to have spare clothes for Illya at the house, though. While it was welcome since she had in fact needed to get into something other than her ragged nightdress by the end of that ordeal, the fact that Kiritsugu figured it would be needed was kind of scary.

What had he expected they would be doing to her? Shirou didn't want to dwell on that thought, but considering exactly how he had found her there was a part of him that couldn't help but worry what _else_ they had done to her. The Moonlit World was not a nice place, and magus were not kind people.

He tossed those thoughts out for now.

A purple coat, white blouse, and a purple skirt underneath. Altogether, Shirou could tell dad had picked out this outfit. It was plain as plain could be, really, if not for the fact that there was some color to it.

Illya didn't seem to mind too much, though. She was probably just happy to be in some warm clothes again.

Shirou sighed, his mind drifting towards the future; and the massive issue that was looming there.

The Holy Grail war.

"Illya, do you have a wish for the grail?"

She paused, blinking up at him as though the question he asked was strange. "Nope. Onii-chan came for me, so now I don't need a wish." She replied to him simply, matter-of-factly, and in no uncertain terms.

That... was good to hear, actually. One less Master that could cause any issue with the Grail. As a matter of fact, that was really good. With Berserker out of the picture as an enemy, the Grail War was starting to look more manageable... or so Shirou hoped.

He had to make sure that another tragedy didn't come about. He had to protect his home.

 _Their_ home.

"But that's enough about that." Illya interrupted his thoughts, pouting cutely up at him. "Tell me about Fuyuki, Onii-chan! I can't wait till we get there!"

Faced with her excitement, Shirou had no choice but to comply. He let the thoughts of the Grail War fade from his mind and focused on all of the things he was excited to let Illya experience in Fuyuki once they arrived.

Things were going to get hectic at home, but that didn't mean they wouldn't have time to enjoy the little things.

* * *

 **AN:** Things just don't look right to me on Fanfiction without authors notes framing them. I'm weird like that. Anyway, regardless, this is the story;

Kiritsugu realizes Shirou is a mess, decides that if he can't get him to live a normal life he'll just make him as prepared as he possibly can at living an abnormal life. There is no premonition that he gets that Shirou will be involved in something ridiculous, but he just knows that a kid who spends all of his time trying to help others, who knows about magecraft, and who is just generally traumatized will inevitably end up involved in something over his head and, without proper training, likely die trying to intervene in something far beyond his capabilities.

So Kiritsugu trains him. But he doesn't want his son to turn out like he did, so instead of leaving him with a dream to "become a hero of justice", Kiritsugu instead points him towards a tangible, if ridiculously difficult, goal... rescuing Illya and living happily.

Now Shirou has to continue to live happily, protecting Illya all the while... while going straight into the Fifth Holy Grail War.


End file.
